


Remembrance

by ODeorainFan2150



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/F, Gen, Head canon for Moira's family, Hints to relationship, Mention of a certain Haitian Medic, Oasis (Overwatch), Pre-Recall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21526411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ODeorainFan2150/pseuds/ODeorainFan2150
Summary: You are cordially invited to the City of Oasis to attend the naming of the new Minister of Genetics - Moira O'Deorain.
Relationships: Moira O'Deorain & Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Moira O'Deorain/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise, I'm back! It's been a while but I finally found some time to write. Maybe it's the Overwatch 2 announcement, maybe it's just all those story ideas coming out of my head. But Enjoy!

The stars shone down on her.

Far above the city of Oasis, they hung like jewels in the cloudless sky, the darkness now overtaking the blue as the twilight started to fade. The last rays of the sun reflected off the shining glass and golden stone of the buildings reaching up to meet them. Their brightness was a contrast to the dark still water of the artificial lake - the modern miracle, endless water in the middle of the desert. The surface as smooth as glass, illuminated by the dots of even more stars, man-made globes of light that hung in the air above it, echoes of the real pinpricks in the sky above but much closer, almost within reach. They clustered over one of the many plazas of the city, this one richly decorated for the celebration. The noise of it, of voices and music and laughter, echoed out, eventually reaching the small shady grove where a tall figure could be found, her face upturned to stare into the darkness above her, the twinkle of the stars reflecting in her red and blue eyes as she gazed up.

Moira O’Deorain sat and watched them shift in the sky, enjoying the way they twinkled far above yet seemed almost in reach. The bench beneath her was warm, the gift of the day’s sun had warmed its surface, making it comfortable to lounge back on. She could feel the heat through her fine silk robes, keeping away the first signs of the desert chill that surrounded the grand metropolis, further helped by the breeze off the lake. As she looked up, her hetechromic eyes twinkling with the stars from above, Moira couldn’t help but feel the Minister’s headdress, a visually appealing assembly of ceramic and metal formed into some form of crown, move slightly on her head. There was a tug at the corner of her mouth at this simple movement, a stretch of her thin face’s muscle fibers - so close to perfection yet only at the surface level, almost a symbol of what many thought Oasis to be. She could already hear some of her other, less reputable, acquaintances remarking about how it made her appear, subtle jibes made at her expense, remarks that were easily silenced with a simple sharp glare. Moira drummed with her fingers again, making them click and tap against the surface of the bench, emitting almost skeletal noises with how her nails met the stone work. Her niece Emily had already made her own comments as she helped her dress, delighting in the excuse to get away from the rain and the grey and the monotony of London and replace it with the desert air and an excuse to get dressed up. The creative spirit may have flowed through her but she shared her aunt’s sharp tongue and sharper mind as well. There was already a note pad filled with “adjustments” that Moira would be suggesting once her term as Minister of Genetics truly started to begin. 

She paused her thoughts, the locomotion of ideas inside her head coming to a smooth and soundless halt, the world tumbling to a momentary pause in her usually organised brain. Moira O'Deorain - Minister of Genetics for Oasis - it had a strange ring to it. She didn’t really care for the title, far more interested in the facilities and access it would unlock for her associates and more importantly her work but it was still an achievement to take pride in - the tall gangly girl from Wicklow, now a truly modern empress in all her finery; All thanks to science. An achievement made on the back of her work, requiring only a minor diversion from her true purpose. There would be time to correct that later, especially with the tools now at her fingertips.

With a small smile to herself, she carefully climbed to her feet and made her way along the path, enjoying the simple calm of this space. The garden was well maintained, small drones silently trimming the grass as she watched them hum with their gravity engines, correcting the plants and keeping the place spotless as they hovered along their routes, their tracking sensors making sure to avoid her as they continued their work. Even here, away from the competing industries and research labs that made this place the centre of the world’s intelligentsia, everything buzzed with progress and excitement. Strange to imagine how this land has changed since she had first seen it, a dry and dusty place on a TV set, serious voice talking about it as violence flashed over the screen; it had always been a far cry from the cold, wet lounge in her parent’s house in Ireland, watching the events with her elbows resting on the stack of books before her, hearing her mother humming to herself in the kitchen, the pounding of feet on the wooden stars as Aiden and Colm...

She stopped in her tracks, breathing heavily for a moment. That name seemed to sting more, the increasing proximity to her destination driving the niggling pain deeper, like a splinter trapped under a fingernail - irritating for a time, but worsening the longer it is left for. Her eyes focused on the courtyard ahead of her, an opening in the greenery. The pale paving beneath her feet leading to a quiet corner, her goal peeking through the gap, catching the light upon its decoration. Carefully, she stepped through, the hedges around her muffling the noise even further until the outside world was left far behind, letting Moira focus on the monument in front of her.

It was a marble pillar, the smooth sandstone carved into the shape of a partially constructed skyscraper. At its top, fingers of stone, cut to millimetre precision, reached up to the sky almost like a staircase winding its way towards the sun. Surrounding it, carved into the base, was a shield, clean deep cuts into the paving. Moira, however, was far more interested in the markings engraved on each of the four sides, each perfectly aligned and spaced. Stepping closer to it, she lifted a slender finger, running the tip down the lists of names and emblems that filled its surface. She moved down, past several nation-states and former employers, until she found the crest she was looking for, it’s title standing out in bold.

**UN Peacekeeping Forces - Euphrates**

Moira’s breathing was becoming shallow as she continued her search, even as her finger moved faster and faster until… She paused. She tapped.

“ _Hello deartháir_ ,” she whispered, her fingertip tapping one carving in a slow, thoughtful way. “It has taken me far longer than I anticipated to make it here.” Moira moved closer before continuing, her forehead almost touching the stone, seeking the cool feeling on her brow. Her voice became quieter as if trying to hide her words from the world. “I know I should have come sooner but things have been... busy. So much planning and organising, all the responsibilities I have tried to avoid for so long. Days turned to years, situations changed...” She drifted off, realising she was rambling, a slight clenching of her teeth to bring her back into focus. “But I’m here now.”

She paused, letting her robes blow back and forth in the gentle breeze, prompting a little bit of a smile drifting up from inside of her as she felt the fabric settle against her legs. "You'd be laughing if you saw me now. These robes make me look like an absolute clown. And this _thing_ perched on my head makes it even more atrocious .” Moira finished, moving her fingers to correct it slightly before her fingers returned to trace the name again, her nails running across to the date beside it. 

The pause this time was longer. Moira always prided herself in knowing just what to say in every situation but here she was stumbling, struggling to get the ideas out of her head. She gazed off over the lake, a little bit of melancholy creeping into her tone.“It would have been nice to have you here today; let you see the woman your niece has grown into. Or even just to talk like we used to…”

Moira felt herself draw back, her mind wandering slightly into the halls of her memory. Thinking back to the last time she had talked to her brother face to face, the way he had ruffled her carefully maintained hair as he stepped out the door, green uniform, polished shoes and shiny buttons. She’d scowled at his face, her own expression the opposite of his, caught in a fit of laughter. That sound, that sensation, that _feeling_ had always been an infectious organism, one that swiftly spread to her own tousled, blushing face until they were both laughing in the darkened street, a feeling of joy that...

The idle thoughts moving through her head were suddenly cut short as a harsh sound intruded the space, their presence like an off-key in her mind as they echoed around her. 

Clapping.

The harsh slap of hand meeting hand. Moira froze, her eyes still forward, still staring as she heard the newcomer step forward. "Well done Doctor O’Deorain, well done." The intruder’s pale dress shined as she made her way through the hedges to stand in the light. "Or should that be _Minister_?" The accented voice seemed to torment her, picking at the final word like it was a stain on her lips.

Moira turned, her face level and unfeeling, her raging torment of emotions hidden behind the usual mask of a straight face. "Dr Zeigler. I wasn't sure my invitation would have been accepted."

Angela's bright eyes locked with Moira's. After a moment, she smiled, that dazzling smile so beloved by the public once upon a time, exhibited as a glorious symbol of their former employers. Moira could see behind it though, a faint edge of something peeling the younger woman’s mask away. She could see the steel waiting, the anger that the doctor’s patience worked so hard to keep at bay. The tone of Angela’s voice when she responded was sharp, crisp, every word chosen carefully. “It almost wasn’t. My time is limited - so much to fix these days.”

When Angela took another step forward, Moira couldn’t help but study her. She looked tired, the kind of tired that no amount of sleep can solve, the mental exhaustion of knowing there is a mountain of tasks unfinished. Her dress may have been beautiful but it was slightly creased, something hidden away since the press tours that Overwatch had required of her. Of course, Moira’s gaze was immediately drawn upwards, taking in the curve of her neck before focusing on that golden hair. The last rays of the sun bounced off it, shimmering in the light but it was pulled up into a ponytail. Practical. It suited Angela far more than any high fashion arrangement assembled by someone else.

Before speaking, Moira cleared her throat. “Of course, Egypt isn’t it? For the moment at least.” She watched as Angela carefully nodded, noting signs of some reluctance to reveal anything, before continuing, “You have moved around a lot - I was discussing with one of your former colleagues in Venezuela and he was especially strong in his praises of…”

The sound of a shoe slowly grinding the gravel below halted her in her attempt at conversation. She couldn’t help but look down, mismatched eyes meeting the intense expression and ice blue eyes the younger medic had fixed her with. “Spare me the long-winded explanation _Doctor_.” Angela snarled. “Why did you drag me all the way out here?”

Angela pushed forward, another step towards Moira’s taller frame as the new Minister, one of the most powerful people in Oasis, retracted her hands in close to her body, the fingertips pressing together as she almost seemed to fold in on herself, the emotion in Angela’s voice unexpected, almost unhinged. The blonde herself came to a halt an arm’s length away from Moira, a hand extending to point, threateningly, at her. “What was this invitation, _du schlange_? Are you trying to settle a score, hmm? Trying to show yourself to be the better doctor, the better scientist? That desire to prove your superiority finally kicking in, is that it? Dr Moira O’Deorain, once the bottom of the barrel of disgraced scientists is now one of the shining lights of Oasis while I’m stuck, trying to help all those that we _failed_ to the first time?”

Angry tears started to fall down Angela’s cheeks, leaving marks across her skin as she furiously glared at Moira’s impassive face. Her finger hammered the thin chest of the Minister, pushing at the fine fabrics with a sudden and unexpected force. “Well I don’t care, Moira. I don’t care about any of this. About Overwatch, about you, about your obsession about being right, about that petty rivalry you maintained all that time, about your _precious_ progress. I’ve never been interested in any of those things, _never_ , so you can take your stupid ministry and- and-”

She never finished that sentence. Instead, Angela’s finger just pressed against Moira’s chest, her body shaking as rage and fury coursed through her veins. Moira could see the thoughts in her head, recognising them for what they were; years of the feelings and ideas, pressed down while she had focused on the present, on the work she could do with her hands at that moment. Now they finally had somewhere to go, a vent to direct them out of, a target to strike with all that rage refined. Gingerly, Moira lifted the finger from it’s resting place, slowly helping it to return it to Angela’s side. The younger doctor gave no resistance as Moira guided her back to a more natural, if emotionally drained, pose.

Moira bent down, her face coming close to Angela’s. She looked deep into those startling blue eyes, the colour still vivid even if they were clouded with tears. There was always so much emotion in them- truly a window to the caring soul behind, even when the steel of grit and determination were there. Now though, now Moira saw Angela laid bare, stretched too thin after too long in the cold.

“Oh Angela,” Moira whispered, raising a finger to gently brush away a stray tear from her angel’s face. “Is that how little you think of me?”

With a single smooth movement, Moira raised herself back to her full height. She looked down at Angela, at the doctor drowning in the sea of emotions that had been waiting to be unleashed. With a simple gesture, she directed to one of the benches, before walking to it herself, leading the way as she always had. Angela could only watch as Moira stopped to dust it, clearing away a few particles the drones had missed, before settling herself down, moving carefully to avoid creasing her finery. With a sigh, her long hands reached up, taking the metal arrangement on her head between her fingers before placing it beside her, the metal ringing with a pleasing tone. She smiled gently, gesturing to the seat beside her. “Please sit down Angela. There is no need to stand on ceremony.”

Cautiously, as if expecting a trap, Angela moved to join her, tucking her dress in slightly before sitting down. For a moment, it was quiet, the pair of them facing out to look over the lake, taking in the expanse of water and sky that lay before them, only the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore below to keep them company.

Angela was the one that broke the silence. Turning slightly to look up at Moira’s face, the younger woman looked at those sharp features carefully, trying to read the thoughts that lay behind them. Finally, she spoke, “Why did you…”

“...accept the Ministerial position?” Moira guessed, an eyebrow-raising as she turned to need those eyes once more.

Angela immediately rolled her eyes before shaking her head. “No, that much is obvious. It’s a prestigious position, much easier access to equipment and material to continue your work. And the chance to be the smartest person in the room pretty reliably as well. No, what I want to know is why are you _here_ Moira? In this garden.” She looked around taking in the details. “It is lovely, a nice change of pace from the celebration they are throwing for you. But why here? Why this spot?” Angela’s head turned, locking on to Moira’s outline as the Irish woman’s eyes returned to stare at the monument.

Moira didn’t smile. She simply looked, taking in the spire of stone as the sunlight slowly started to dim, the glow orbs above gradually increasing their light. Eventually, though, she spoke. “You always were the inquisitive one, weren’t you Angela? Direct and to the point when there was something on your mind.” Moira sighed slightly, before speaking again, her tone more emotional, the first sign of the bottle she had held inside her slowly being opened.

“Lieutenant Colm O’Deorain. That’s why I’m here.”

There was another pause, much longer this time. Angela leaned forward, finally reading the words on the side of the column, her keen eyes moving quickly through the sections until she paused. They widened slightly as a flash of sudden understanding passed through her.

“Oh, Moira...” Angela whispered softly.

The Minister couldn’t help but smile slightly. She turned to Angela, seeing the first sign of tears at the edge of the younger woman’s eyes. “It was a long time ago - back when this place was little more than a barren desert.” Moira couldn’t help but look around as she talked, taking in the differences that lay before her. “They asked for the UN to defend them, and Ireland answered. Colm… my brother… he was always wanting to get out of the home country and go do something important. I was home from my first year of university - I got to see him leave in his uniform, polished buttons shining, and always with that smile…” She paused, catching herself once more. “He would have been perfect for Overwatch, if he had lasted that long.”

Angela said nothing and Moira, in some small way, was glad. She could tell Angela wanted to lean in, offer comfort like the angel she was, provide some mercy from this grief that she’d kept bottled up. But Angela also knew Moira - knew that even just being there to hear her was good enough. It had been like this after Venice, Angela being the first person Moira had found to bother on her return, tasking her some tricky problem relating to her biotic system. And the same in reverse, Moira finding Angela knocking on her office door after the mission to King’s Row - ostensibly to discuss changes to her nanobots and tools but Moira had noticed how her counterpart’s focus on work, still wearing the armoured greaves of her battle dress as she placed her staff on the workbench.

Eventually, Moira pulled herself together, her brain rearranging the thoughts of Colm and that part of her life and putting them back into the neat little box to store them. “The reason I invited you, Angela, was not out of some petty spite or jealousy. There was no malicious reasoning behind it. Merely the desire to share this occasion with you." Moira stood up, slowly turning around to look down at Angela’s seated form. The minister couldn’t help but continue with a smile, “There are few people who have earned my respect in all this time, even fewer that I have anything form of admiration for. Or any other warmer feelings towards. So who else better to join me for a moment of triumph?”

“Of course,” Moira hesitated, “My reasons were not entirely sentimental. I wanted you to see Oasis in all her glory, to see if it might persuade you to make use of your considerable skills in a new role reporting to me. As you say, the laboratories here do have vastly superior facilities compared to almost anywhere else on this planet. Or even orbiting it. But I somehow think a position here is not what you would desire, is it? After all, you always did prefer to be able to reach out and touch the people you helped.”

The two said little more to each other. They didn’t need to, standing by themselves in the memorial garden - Angela’s hand carefully wrapped around Moira’s.

\---

As Angela’s footsteps faded into the twilight, slowly returning back to the party and the other guests, Moira allowed herself a moment of peace. A little to collect herself, enjoy the silence. But then she called out to thin air, the commanding edge returning to her tone.

“Enjoying your evening stroll, Sombra? Or merely being inquisitive for your own sake?”

Moira felt rather than saw the figure that stepped out of the bushes, a blurred outline suddenly moving, a presence pushing through the undergrowth. As Moira turned on her foot, a purple glow began to shine against her face. In a patchwork of purple hexagons, a figure soon materialised out of thin air, seated on the bench, one arm resting casually on the back of it as she stared up at her, a smile across her face.

“Oh no, Minister O’Deorain. I was just here to keep an eye on you. After all, it would be a shame if anything happened to a newly minted member of one of the Ministries that might put her in their bad books, something she has a habit of doing in her past places of employment. Especially if that was _before_ she did what Talon had ordered her to do.”

Sombra leaned in closer "I wonder how our good friend Maximilian would take the news that his little plant, that he spent all that effort to put into position, is talking to the old enemy, hmm? And with all that emotion too! I think I shed a little tear."

Moira didn't respond. Instead, she just looked off into the distance. When she spoke again, there was a steely edge to her voice. "Now that would be a very foolish thing to reveal, Sombra. Or should I say, Miss Colomar." She turned to look at Sombra's stony face, a smile playing around her thin lips as she continued. "You are not the only one who sees purpose in knowing just who they are working with. And more importantly, what they might want."

Crossing the small space, Moira slowly came to sit next to the smaller hacker. She turned, gazing directly into those purple eyes "How about tomorrow you come so we can discuss just what exactly you would like from the Ministers of Oasis. Perhaps we can come to some form of arrangement, hmm?"

Sombra’s smile was all the answer she needed. As she watched, the purple glow returned, the outline before her disappearing once again into the night, leaving only a pair of mischievous eyes in mid-air before fading away. Instead of worrying more about the fire she might be playing with, Moira just turned away, her eyes once again returning upwards. She focused on the pin-pricks in the night, so far away yet also so near. Moira smiled.

The stars shone down on _Her_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Dilara_CC for being my writing partner on this and making sure I remember how writing stories works.
> 
> If you like this work, I love hearing your comments - I'll always try and respond! Alternatively, drop me an email at odeorainfan2150@gmail.com
> 
> Follow me on twitter at https://twitter.com/deorainfan2150 for news on what I'm working on next.
> 
> If you want to throw me a tip, you can find my Ko-Fi at https://ko-fi.com/odeorainfan2150.


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